Chapter 6

It had been a few months of hard work. Every day we would plow, plant, and work the fields. Every evening we would bring the plow and our tools back to the barn and wash before going into the main house.

I too had to wear just a skirt that exposed my breasts after a time even though only Penelope was the only who was milked three times a day. Madame Parrish decided I had no need of modesty and the only reason for the skirt was to prevent the hairs of my cunny from falling into her soup.

She told me to be thankful for the skirt because my cunny could be shaved and I could serve naked in the house as I did in the fields. It took some getting used to but I began to grow accustomed to serving with my tits on display and it felt strange to have them covered by cloth. I also grew so used to the yoke and rope that I could not sleep if I were not bound.

We were still low on supplies but the Professor would occasionally bring things to us. We even had chickens again and were able to produce eggs and the occasional fried chicken dinner.

Penelope and I dined almost exclusively on gruel and a few table scraps. Abigail joked that we might be better served with a feedbag then a funnel so that we could graze all day while we worked. Charles thought that was a fantastic idea but after fumbling with the feedbag could not find a way to secure it to our faces so that our tongues could reach the food.

Every Sunday we would receive strict punishment for most of the day. We would be bound in the barn and left to dangle like ornaments and periodically Abigail and Charles would check on us and beat us with leather straps. This often happened under the guidance of Professor Slade or Madame Parrish who would encourage them not to be too soft in their mercy towards us.

Penelope felt she deserved and thrived on such beatings so she would also encourage them to be particularly harsh and I for my part would do the same since I felt it to be a just punishment.

In March there was a time when Charles was alone in the barn with us. He began probing Penelope’s cunny with the whip handle which was not the first time it had been done to us but he was clearly bringing her to orgasm instead of agony and she encouraged him to continue once she became caught up in the rapture of the sensation.

The Professor caught them in the act and summoned Madame Parrish. They did not hold blame over Charles for his part in the matter because they considered him blinded by her feminine wiles. They did say that he would not be permitted to discipline us alone for a time.

I was taken down and bound to the cross in the field and whipped for failing to cry out when I saw my son engaged in simulated copulation with Penelope. A punishment I had asked for since I knew my actions were wrong.

Penelope on the other hand received a far more harsh punishment. She too was bound to the cross and whipped and then made to pull the carriage the following day back to the seminary where Professor Slade performed a procedure on her. He removed her clitoris – the source of her pleasure. He sewed it closed and then had a steel hoop riveted through the flesh to close the lips together so that they could not be easily spread for her pleasure. This allowed only a small hole for her to pee from.

She took several days to heal but she still labored during the day and at night Charles would visit us and check on her. He apologized profusely for her fate but she insisted that the fault lay with her. She begged him to bugger her all the more now and said that she could still feel pleasure with a pinky or thumb in her cunny but asked that he be gentle while it healed.

Several weeks after that incident, in the Barn after my son had finished buggering Penelope they lay together in a tangled embrace. He asked her again if she would marry him. The two of them enjoyed each other’s company and I knew that Penelope wasn’t just using my son for favors as I had first suspected.

“You really want to marry a donkey, Master Charles?” she laughed at the impossibility of the idea.

“I see you more as a cow, Miss Penelope,” he joked and tweaked her nipple before rolling over on his back to look at the ceiling. They giggled at this notion but there was a measure of truth to our station in life and Penelope knew that there would be no marriage.

“It’s just that I want to try your cunny and to do that we must be married,” he finally suggested.

“You could lick it again,” she offered lustily. Charles had done that once and said he did not care for it. Penelope had told him that he needed more practice and would learn to enjoy it the way she enjoyed gruel.

“But you don’t enjoy gruel,” he reminded her.

“Yes, but if that is all you have to eat then you eat it,” she teased him.

He would also at times let her ride the whip handle with her cunny at night but that seemed to satisfy neither of them. Penelope said fingers were far more nimble and clever at pleasure then fucking herself on a whip handle.

“We could be married after the war,” Charles assured her.

“This incessant war shows no sign of ending, Master Charles” she told him as she played with herself and tried to bring life back to his member with her hands.

“I’ve read news that the Confederacy will surrender at the Appomattox courthouse any day now!” Charles told us. I wished it were true. There had been so much suffering and ravaging of the land. I still had at least 10 months to go of my own service to the Madame though even if the war were to end.

“They said the war would end after Gettysburg last year,” Penelope reminded him skeptically and told him not to believe everything he read.

“What about the Bible?” he asked her.

“That is the word of God,” she reminded him and considered his question blasphemous.

“If you believe so strongly in the word of God, why do you sin?” he asked her.

“We are all born sinners but I am one of the kind who has fallen so far from grace, that the only path to repentance for me is through harsh atonement! You are doing God’s work when you beat me for my lustful temptations,” she told him.

“Has my mother fallen far from grace?” he asked her. He sometimes talked to her as if I were not in the room at all.

“She is the victim of circumstance as we all are with this accursed war but yes, I believe only through penance may she ever experience grace again,” she said.

I said nothing.

“What is all this bible talk?” a man’s voice surprised all of us as the door swung open. The deserter I had seen months ago on the ride from the Plantation to the Seminary stepped through the door holding a gun and a lantern. He smiled at us. His face was haggard and he was thin and gaunt and dressed in rags. He looked weak and yet at the same time he lunged forward like a mad dog and entered the barn.

“Please Sir, we mean you no harm,” Charles thought to say. The man struck Charles down with the butt of his pistol and left him on the ground unconscious or dead. I cried out and for that he grabbed me first and had his way with me.

I could put up no fight and naked and chained as I was there was no use in protesting either. He satisfied his lust on my body and plunged his cock into me. He wiped his mouth after he finished satisfying himself and told Penelope that there would be plenty of time and she would have a turn with him.

Penelope usually had a look of wanton “do as you please” instatiable hunger for lust on her pretty face but this time she looked truly horrified.

The man adjusted his pants and went to the main house. Penelope told me that Charles was still breathing but I still worried for him. “Is he bleeding?” I asked.

“No, but he has a big knot on his head!” she said. We tried to wake him so that he could run for help at the Seminary but he was out cold.

We didn’t have long to wait before the man returned with Abigail in her bed clothes. He stripped her naked and despite her protests and pouting was rough with her – grabbing her by the hair and slapping her face until she complied. He attached her foot to a slave manacle in the barn and then bound her wrists like ours.

“I’ve been watching you for days. At first, I thought you were playing a merry game out in the fields pretending to be a cow or a horse. It was the funniest thing and most misguided thing I had ever seen watching women try to do the work of a man or a horse,” he spoke with an Alabama accent.

He wondered why Abigail was clothed and we were the ones who were naked.

“We are sinners who have fallen from grace and Abigail is innocent. She has never been with a man, please leave her chastity,” I implored the man. Despite the hardship Abigail visited upon me I still bore her no ill will.

“Nah, I have no use for petticoats and prancing maidens. Why have two whores when you can have three?” he said.

Charles started to wake up. The callous man tied up my sons wrists but left him with his clothes laying on the hay with us.

“Who else lives here, boy?” he demanded.

“Why should I help you?” Charles groaned in pain as he still reeled from the butt of his pistol.

“You’ll do as I tell you or I’ll make your lives hell. I’ve been on the road for days, I’ve seen and done things I can’t unsee or undo. I have no qualms killing the lot of you but if you are nice to Frank, then Frank will be nice to you. We can have a little sport,” he explained.

I came to understand his name was Frank Grimes. He had been a corporal in a regiment out of Alabama. He didn’t serve the Confederacy though. The 1^st Alabama Cavalry served the Union and because of that were considered turncoats in their home state. “I can’t go home,” he said “So I will make this my new home.”

He discovered that Madame Parrish was inside the main home after looking around and because she was in a wheelchair he did nothing to bind her or harm her. He told her that he was the new owner of this plantation and that she and everything on it belonged to him.

The next day he made Abigail and Charles show him how they dressed us as ponies each day to plant while Madame watched from the porch. Madame threatened him if he harmed Abigail but Mr. Grimes ignored the threats.

Once Abigail finished with me he told her that she was next.

“I think not! It is far enough that I have been made to spend the night indecently before you and Charles but this is unthinkable!” the younger girl protested.

Frank slapped her pretty face and made Charles attach a set of blinders, gag and bindings to Abigail. She protested but didn’t struggle. Frank pulled her butt cheeks apart and pushed a whip handle up her anus hard and she squealed much like Penelope had the first time as she adjusted to the feeling of the tail being seated in her bottom.

He made the three of us labor that day together and had Charles help him manage us in the fields on his own which was a struggle for my frail son. “You are fairly useless boy, but you are amusing” he told him as he spit tobacco on the ground at his feet.

That evening Frank insisted we wear nothing in the main house and prepare dinner. Abigail was made to serve in the kitchen alongside of us and serve Charles, Frank and Madame Parrish. The Madame remained composed during Frank’s occupation but never cordial. She ate and didn’t speak or offer any conversation. He left her relatively unmolested in our company and threatened that Madame Parrish would be paraded naked and join us if we failed to amuse him.

Mr. Grimes ate our food heartily and insisted we not ration it. “The war will be over in days. Cook another chicken tonight or I’ll cook one of you!” he insisted. I hoped he was kidding but in these dark days of madness during this great war I had no idea if he meant it and no intention of finding out.